Post life- Chronicles of a Winchester
by MiracleWhipped
Summary: Chap:0 Dying and Other things: Of all the times Dean had died February 2014 was his least favorite. He didn't remember it but he'd said the same time he'd died every other time. Primarly a story focused on Dean, with a side helping of Cas. Not a Slash story, but plenty of reference as is in the show.


**Post life- Chronicles of a Winchester**  
_**Book 1- Dying and other things**_

_by MiracleWhipped_

No beta so all mistakes are mine! please review and let me know if I need to fix something. And because of this, I will post the most recent fix in the summary, so no confusion.

**Warnings:** They are adult characters, thus, except in the presence of children, they don't curtail their mouths so I shan't do it for them. Also **Dean/Cas friendship** ,could be seen as preslash,will be present, some **OCfem/Sam,** and reference brief accidental slash for sake of humor as it is a running gag in SPN and between characters. Not a romance story, this is a friendship/family adventure. Honestly probably readable to preteens and higher.

**Set before Benny ate Martin and Sam let Dean get knocked out by a hunter.**

**Disclaimer:** Dude, does anyone here own the respective fandom. I want to talk to them about a few things.(ie I don't own SPN characters, just the story.)

**Prologue**

_"Life wasn't bad."_

That was the thought Dean had that morning.

It was a surprising change of heart after almost an Earth decade of hell, prophecy, alcoholism, and angels.

And Apocalypse, mussn't forget that. Heaven, Hell, and most recently Purgatory had gotten quieter than they'd been since pre-Fuck-with-the-Winchesters-season had opened. It was like finally getting a break in the bull, there was still activity to deal with of course. Crowley, the Alphas, left over Leviathans, Hell gate, finding out how Cas escaped purgatory.. not quiet.

Things felt good, they felt right in a way they hadn't in a while. Sam was okay and dealing with his Hell memories and romantic tension with Miss Amelia. Cas was sane, and dealing with grief and guilt. **But** Okay and visiting weekly. Kevin was reunited with his mother and in hiding with Garth, who was surprisingly competent at the whole "being Bobby" thing. Benny was down south, circling Louisiana and exchanging emails with his granddaughter and keeping to a nonviolent diet of human blood supplemented with animal blood. Tasted like crap, but it was under control. Nobody was good, things were okay, and it felt like this might be the time the other school wasn't dropped. They were attacking problems that weren't spiraling way out of control for the first time in ages. Besides the big problems all they really worried about were the case to case things, like wendigos and witches. And as much as he hated witches he could deal if it meant not struggling to keep the world afloat.

He'd even laughed a bit at the thought of hunting witches, "Fucking witches!"

Sam raised an eyebrow at his brothers random laughter. Sam just sighed deeply, though as he lightly jibed in thought that his brother may have finally cracked. He wouldn't blame him if he had. After all, he himself and Cas had already went round the bend once or twice. It's what the job does to people, some more that others. Sam looked over at the corner of his laptop at the date for reassurance.  
_"At least it wasn't Tuesday_," before ignoring his brother once more.

*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*

It was hours later and Dean had put away the books he'd been researching in favor of Dr. Sexy, which was ending.

It was nearing 7 pm and Dean felt like grabbing a burger and some coffee from down the street, and from the look of Sam he'd need the coffee soon if the way he concentrated so heavily on the book and the notes he was making to the side were any indication.

"Hmm, want some coffee? Sam, I'll even get your girly non-fat saccharine "tutu" mocha-lada." He was feeling particularly generous and willing for once to bend to his brother's strange tastes.  
"Your such a child Dean, it's a Soy-latte, with two shots of caramel."

_"That's such a bitchy drink, bet he wants a salad, too."_  
"Yeah, yeah. You do know coffee is supposed to be manly, right? Or at least mostly coffee." Dean raised an eyebrow at Sam in his condescending fashion.

"Sure, keep selling that, I'm going to have something actually drinkable. And edible, a salad would be great. You know people can't survive on black coffee, burgers, and pie. Right?"

"Don't be ridiculous Sam, they're practically food groups. I get your rabbit food. Bitch."

"Jerk. Someday you're going to get huge, try picking up chicks when you weigh 300 pounds."

"Ha,ha. I'll still be the good looking Winchester." And the motel shut with a jovial slam.

Sam shook his head in an exasperated and playful way.  
"He's gonna die of a coronary one day."

*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*

Cas woke.

Which in of itself was weird. It doesn't bode well as he doesn't sleep.

And apparently he hadn't been sleeping. He was on Earth, there were marble pillars coming together and gold etchings that made a door. It was unlike any he'd ever seen before, but intrinsically familiar to his home. Radiating a circle of purifying energy.

His periodic blackouts were getting stranger and stranger, he couldn't dredge up the strength to really find out what was going on, but he knew he needed to let the Winchesters know, they'd know if he'd been compromised.

At his feet were the workings of a spell, a series of stars and pentagrams, as well as enochian and demonic script. They came together in a barbaric clash, but Castiel understood it.

_On the powers of the earth, with the blood of a willing vessel, restore the strength from what was stolen from heaven, restore and return the loved, obey and bring back all._

"Bring back?"

He was shaken from his feet and he took flight as the entire mountain shook, and as the door began to split.  
Cas could hear them, hear the roar of cries and collection of anger. His family.

The Angels.

Cas suck between absolute terror, guilt, and relief pushed himself back farther and farther away.

Energy was shooting out with every slam of his brothers against the gate, alluding to the probable blast range.

Cas wasn't sure if he could get far enough away, but as he kept his eyes on the mountain he recognized it Mt. Wycheproof the smallest mountain in the world.

The blast lit up the sky and resounded with the flight of thousands of angels into the sky, the wave of the blast hit Cas but he stood his metaphorical ground only being pushed back by the wind.

He felt and saw as his brothers fled the prison, the afterlife of angels. And he wrapped a thousand wardings over himself quickly, over his already there protections. Then he saw the return of the archangel Raphael. He hovered briefly before returning home after most of the heavenly siblings.

As quick as they'd come they were gone. Briefly Cas's angel radio sprung to life with a thousand familiar voices and then shut off with an metaphysical click that left echo over the once again silent link.

He spun trying to see if any one was still there, he looked back to the gate. The smallest mountain in the world was now the deepest canyon in Australia, maybe the world.

But no one else was here.

"This is a big "_change up,_" I need to get to Dean and Sam."

Idly Cas supposed they'd soon track down **the traitor** and put him to death, or demand retribution, or lock him up. Yes he needed to at least warn the Winchesters before he couldn't anymore.

)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*

The diner was pretty slow, with a couple of regulars and not much else. He got the food first, from a male waiter who like smelled like Axe Deodorant. Dean got his bagged food, and began making his way over to the coffee house. He was noticing how empty the streets were, it was strange for only 8 pm.

A tiny hole in the wall he'd seen earlier, boasted late night jazz and custom coffee brews, and should be open still.

Suddenly a hand reached out of nowhere and flung him into the alley.

The food went flying out of his and crashed open on the alley some distance from him. He turned and saw the assailant's hands flying for his face, looking for a hold. But he left himself open and Dean punched him square in the face.

There was a crunch, and Dean tried to pull away quick in a mix of personal pain and realization that his assailant was definitely an angel. But he was too slow for the supernatural speed this time, and the hand smashed around his wrist and yanked him forward into the platinum blade suddenly in his hands.

The angel angled it upward into his diaphragm through a lung missing the heat by centimeters, he yanked it out quickly.

The world in Dean's eyes went foggy and watery from pain and blood filling lung, before the angel cleanly stabbed through his sternum to his heart.

)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*

"That sucked ass." Dean said.

Or rather didn't say, it didn't _feel_ like talking so much as projecting.

_"Crap, I'm dead again."_

Before loses perception of time in his travel through the borders of Earth and Heaven. He did notice Mr. Stabby McAngel was the one pulling him through, rather than Tessa._  
_

)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*

Castiel called the ever-frustrating Dean first, he need a location. "This is Dean Winchester's other, other phone you must know what to do." Beep.

"Hello Dean, the angels are back I don't know what happened just call be back as soon as you get this message."

He exited the talk screen and dialed Sam's number, he picked it up"Sam, Where are you?"

It had been a long time since the slowly pacifying Cas had sounded so urgent, and Sam quickly told him the address.

There was a flapping sound and Sam turned and saw Cas, his hair windblown from his usual clean combed style. He quickly scanned the room, looking for his brother.

"Where is Dean?"

"What's going on? He went out for coffee." Sam could feel the worry coming off of Cas in waves.

"An angel has been in town I felt him here, he's gone now. All of my siblings are back, Raphael is back! We need to find your brother, he could be in danger."

)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*  
Dean Of all the times that Dean had died, February of 2014 was his least favorite so far.

He didn't remember it, but he'd thought the same thing about all the other times as well.

He gazed up at the too bright light, that towered above.  
Honestly he may have been apprehensive about What The Hell was going on at that point, but hell he was dead already what else could happen?  
But then things shifted, it felt as though he'd been riding a track that hit hitch in the rails and suddenly things made a lot more sense. Visually anyway.

Zachariah was standing with his smug grin and angry eyes, off to the corner, and there were a few others he'd couldn't really remember but added to the offensive air. Zachariah looked entirely too pleased, in his business suit and CEO vessel,

"Well, I say you guys are looking well for undead dicks, but I don't really give a s..." Dean was cut off by a loud smack and suddenly his face was turned to the opposite side, then he felt the painful sting on his cheek and loosened teeth. Slanting his eyes in search of the attacker, he found the angel he most certainly didn't expect or want to ever see again. Raphael. Still in a pristine suit, and in the unfortunate woman who'd said 'yes.'

Then with a mix of "You'd think, it be at least rumpled from death by exploding," "dude still looks like a lady," and "certainly doesn't hit like a girl," mixed around in his head he collects himself to stick it to these angels at least verbally.

Spitting out the blood, he grouses out  
"Angels are dicks."

He did remember saying that before.

*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*

Castiel, still held the cooling body of Dean Winchester. He'd been left pale and in a steadly growing pool of blood.

Sam was staring and paling himself, Cas laid Dean down carefully. Stands and touches Sam's shoulder and they're are both back at the motel.

Sam began collecting weapons and calling Garth to warn and organize the other hunters, another Civil war in heaven was underway maybe. And if not...then the Apocalypse.

Everyone should be ready this time.

Sam was steadfastly trying to keep out the image of Dean's body when Garth asked about Dean, the silence and redirection told him everything he needed and Garth thankfully let it go.  
"Thanks Garth, Bobby would be proud."

He hung up and ran his hand over his face in a mix of grief and annoyance.  
"What's the next step? What now...Cas pay attention!"  
Cas smoothly looked from his seat, he'd sat there looking more like a statue than the thinker.  
"We get him back," his eyes were like icy steel and molten flame. Sam felt the same, and nodded.  
"What.."  
"I'm going back to heaven, I'll bring him back or die trying. You will know if I fail, as the angels will undoubtedly begin the attack on 'The Cage.'" Cas disappeared with an angry flutter of wings.

Sam turned and punched through the flimsy motel wall, "Dammit! Fuck, Cas quit just disappearing! I can help." He of course knew he had less chance of changing his mind than Dean would. And Dean hadn't won a fight with Cas since before purgatory, at least with regard to Dean's safety.

"And how did you intend to do that, die perhaps?"A voice like a graveyard, with about as much enthusiasm, asked.  
Death was here.  
_"Great." _Sam's mind resigned himself to even more complicated matters.

)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*

Castiel (Cas his inner monologue raves) has torn through the backdoor of heaven and already feels the toll. He rests in a human heaven, shaking from an exertion he should not feel. He can see where they are, all of them are gathered and make a beautiful, if direct, sign of where they are. They want him here.

"I might be able to get them to release Dean, they do still need him. Maybe I can make a trade." he said quietly to himself, a pesky human habit.

An unexpected flutter of wings put him on guard, and he drew his weapon quickly to his hand.

"Hey, Cassy."

Balthazar.

A well known feeling of guilt runs through him, like with Anna and Rachel and so many others. He clenched his hand tightly, he would face many brothers and sisters today. Many he had killed himself both in his egomaniacal post-souls "cleanse," during the Heaven's Civil War, and to protect the Winchesters. He pessimistically wondered how many he would need to kill this time. He did not blame their opposition to him, but the Winchesters shouldn't have been brought in to this.

"If you've come for revenge you may have it, should I survive, first I have to..." Cas edges away from his brother but stills as Balthazar's wings ruffle out like shaking water from his wings.

"Oh shut up, seriously you must be a Winchester with how much you and they love to talk. I didn't come for revenge. I want you to listen to me for once, just once! Leave him Cas, nothing good will come of this suicide run."

Shaking his head in outright Cas rushed, "Dean will be freed, they can kill me but they need him for.."

"Get with the program Castiel, Raphael is going to obliterate him from existence, then they are going to lock you up; Raphael made a 'Cage' for you. It seems the war worked after all, you convinced almost everyone that the script is open to interpretation and in free will. However, most are now trying to start the apocalypse of their own free will now. Dean... they don't need Dean, they have Adam, and Sam; Dean means more to you alive than he does as a meat-suit for Micheal to them; that's the important bit at this point." Balthazar looked at him sympathetically.

"Please Brother, Castiel. Run, flee to Earth hide Sam before they seek him out for destruction or use as a vessel. There is nothing for you here. Please Castiel."

"Balthazar," Cas's sky blue eyes shone wet with emotion he shouldn't have, "I'm sorry, but no. I'd rather go down with Dean than go back, and hide."

"Your a fool." Balthazar clenched his fists in regret and anguish.

"Yeah, well family makes you be an idjit every time . Hey feathers been a while."

Both angels turned to the voice, of what could only be Bobby Singer.  
He looked younger now though, a near 25 year old , no beer gut and only a few wrinkles to his brown.  
He looked grim, despite his smile. He held an old shotgun around his shoulders as he approached Castiel.

"So you done, belly-aching? We go a hell of a rodeo to get to."

"Oh good, the backwards hick from South Dakota with an ineffectual human weapon is here to save us, we'll make it for sure now." Balthazar drawled. And he drew in close to Castiel.

"Hey, no one invited you!" Bobby spat out in his well-worn grouchy manner.

"Well, I guess your right about family; can't let this moron go in by himself with just you and his boyfriend. He might die again." Balthazar glanced over at the shell-shocked Castiel.

"Okay, does anyone actually have a plan?" Cas seemed to come back to the conversation wearing a grim smile and thankful heart to have such companions.

"What you don't think, I came unprepared did ya? Lets just get there. Step lively we're on a schedule."

With that Cas gripped Bobby, as he and Balthazar whisked away to what may very well be their last battle together.


End file.
